


Musings of a Son

by quoththeraven5



Category: Indiana Jones Series, The Last Crusade
Genre: Gen, ITS NOT BLASPHEMY, Indy just broods, Indy's internal musings, hating on the Holy Grail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoththeraven5/pseuds/quoththeraven5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Indiana never wanted the grail, and he doesn't know why everyone thinks he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Musings of a Son

_“I’m not looking for the grail, I’m looking for my father!”_ Indy had told the man on the boat, vehemently, why didn’t anyone believe him?

Everyone, Elsa, Brody, Walter – Dad; that’s all they ever talked about. We need to find the grail – we have to get to it before they do – I believe in the grail, not the swastika – I want the grail itself, Hitler can have the world – It’s ours Indy, yours and mine – I can reach it.

Why didn’t anyone listen to him? _“I’m not looking for the grail, I’m looking for my father”_ – I would have done anything to get it, same as you - when did Indy ever give that impression?!

He was looking for his father, he never wanted the grail. All that cup ever did was take away his father. Indy told the truth when he said he didn’t understand his father’s obsession; Indy had never saw the grail as holy, all he ever thought of it was as a damned cup that took his father away.

The last quiet drink he had with his father, Indy had a milkshake; he was twelve. The only reason he had the milkshake was because Dad was leaving for an expedition, leaving him, for the grail – again.

_“I’m not looking for the grail, I’m looking for my father!”_

Indy hated that cup.

Shooting me won’t get you anywhere – You’re absolutely right. Bang.

_“I’m not looking for the grail, I’m looking for my father!”_

Indy hated that cup, still does. He found it, he fought for it, and he took it. Indy still hated it.

And yet, with his father above him, Indy still reached for it. It was his father’s life-long obsession. How could he let that go? His father lived and breathed for the stupid thing, what was Henry Jones Jr. compared to that? Nothing, that’s what.

“Indiana, let it go.”

What? How could he let it go, if he let it go what else would there be? His father would have nothing, Indy didn’t want to see his dad waste away without his purpose.

_“Indiana, let it go.”_

- _Indiana_ \- that’s what he called him, dad never called him that.

If he let the grail go, he would never have to see that damned cup again. He would never have to live in its holier-than-thou shadow again. It would finally end, he would finally have his father.

Junior grabbed his father’s hands; heart lightened with the thought that the Holy Grail, the cup of Christ, would be left to rust and crumble in an old forgotten tomb.

 


End file.
